


Moments of Grace

by seki



Category: Final Fantasy XV
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, M/M, Post-Game(s)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-10-08
Updated: 2018-10-08
Packaged: 2019-07-28 08:00:08
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,420
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16237457
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seki/pseuds/seki
Summary: Some days are harder than others.





	Moments of Grace

**Author's Note:**

  * For [yukiscorpio](https://archiveofourown.org/users/yukiscorpio/gifts).



> For yukiscorpio, as always.

It's been a hard day.

There's been a lot of those.

The problem with saving the world is that it doesn't automatically fix everything. The world had been broken for ten years, while Noctis hung suspended outside of it. Despite what Noctis has come to think of as _heroic_ efforts to make the best of it, ten years of darkness and demonic ravagement had left Lucis a ruined shadow of its former self.

It doesn't feel right to delegate everything, King or not. Not when everyone else does any job that comes along. Noctis pitches in, though he tries to stay in Insomnia as much as he can. Hard physical labour isn't so bad. Keeps the mind clear, focused. Building, clearing out roadways, reconnecting Insomnia's districts to the farms outside. It's all productive.

Today had been some of the _rest_ of the work.

He curls into bed, pulls the pillow over his head, and sucks in a hard breath. He's not going to cry.

"Noct?"

If he doesn't breathe, if he's really quiet--

The mattress dips, next to him. "Cor caught me up. How bad was it?"

He lowers the pillow. "Last count when I left was about seventy-eight." Children, for the most part, cowering in their school when the Niffs had invaded. Once, he'd have expected that ten years would strip the flesh from their bones entirely. These days he knows better.

"I'm sorry."

"Why? Not your fault."

Ignis frowns. "I would say it's not your fault either."

"Funny, you know what? It is. All this. You know why this city became a warzone? Because of me."

"Not, oh, say, because of the Empire?"

Noctis _hates_ it when Ignis has a point. "You know what I mean."

"And you, I believe, know what I mean. Shift over."

Noctis rolls to the side, and Ignis swings his legs up onto the bed. "Niflheim would have invaded, regardless of your existence. The Emperor was obsessed with the Crystal."

"Because Ardyn poured poison in his ears, _because of me_."

Ignis sighs, and shifts down the bed. He tucks his knees up behind Noctis's, drapes an arm over Noctis's waist, and presses his forehead into the back of Noctis's head. "Guilt achieves nothing," he says, his breath tickling the back of Noctis's neck. "By all means, mourn their deaths. But what good will blaming yourself do?"

It's not as easy as just _switching_ the guilt off, Noctis thinks. But already the paralysing sensation is lifting.

Ignis's arm tightens. "Besides, I love you. And would I, if you were a monster?"

Oh. Noctis turns over, ducks his head to press against Ignis's collarbone. "Still don't know why," he mutters, but it's a faint protest. Ignis loves him. Ignis has always loved him. "Weirdo."

"I maintain that I have excellent taste," Ignis says, and his chin digs into Noctis's scalp as he talks, but that's okay.

"Hn."

"I suppose you won't eat tonight."

Noctis wrinkles his nose. He can still smell death. Decay lingers in the back of his throat, even after a shower. "Maybe later."

A kiss, pressed to his hairline. "What do you need from me?"

"This."

And with that, there's peace. Ignis holding him, rubbing gentle circles on his back in the darkened room, murmuring sweet nonsense about how important Noctis is to him from time to time. Noctis can't stop thinking about today, can't stop obsessing over the faces of the dead. It's not in his nature to let these things go. But Ignis is anchoring him. The swell of emotions rises, but does not suffocate. Noctis won't drown in his sadness tonight.

He wakes up, a sudden jarring of alertness in his bones. Ignis comes awake, too, his hands curled and reaching for weapons that no longer come when summoned.

"It's okay," Noctis says, to reassure Ignis more than himself. "Just a bad dream."

Ignis relaxes, pulls Noctis back against him.

"What time is it?"

A chuckle. "How on earth would I know?"

"Yeah, dumb question. Hang on." Noctis rolls over, stretches out a hand to the clock on the bedside table. He has to bring the clock quite close to read it; nearly midnight. "Nearly tomorrow."

"We should eat."

Noctis squirms, squints at Ignis's face. "You didn't eat either, huh."

"I did not. I was hoping to persuade you to come down for dinner in the mess hall."

"Okay. Um. Shit. Where do we get food at midnight?"

Ignis sits up, and stretches luxuriously. "I dare say we can rustle something up in the kitchens. If you'll be my eyes."

"You know I will. Oo. Can we have pancakes?"

It's dark outside. Eerily so. Noctis still can't get used to looking out of these windows and seeing Insomnia so darkened. And it feels almost wrong to be walking down through the Citadel main stairs, so late, instead of sneaking down through back stairways like when they were children. Ignis seems to feel the same way; he tugs on Noctis's hand and picks up the pace, until they're running down the final few stairs and then out and along the corridors that lead to the old service areas. The kitchens are down here, directly beneath the grand formal dining room. They'd come here a lot when they were young, to beg for tidbits and treats.

The fires are banked, but the room still feels warm. Ignis has Noctis show him to the stove, has Noctis brings him ingredients, a bowl. Noctis breaks eggs, sifts flour, pours out amounts, watches Ignis mix up a batter, advises on anything that needs eyes. He tries to only do what Ignis asks, resists the urge to step in.

Ignis doesn't cook often. Noctis had never thought of Ignis as proud, but he knows it's pride that stops Ignis from asking anyone else to help him like this, or from asking Noctis to help when anyone else is around. Only Noctis gets to see Ignis here, at the stove, gets to eat the food Ignis produces. Gets to watch Ignis burn a finger on the pan and pretend it doesn't hurt, gets to tell Ignis to stop being an ass and to run it under the cold faucet while Noctis finishes up.

They eat at the kitchen prep table, on old stools worn smooth by generations of kitchen staff. The pancakes are perfect, fluffy and light with honey and butter over the top.

"Feeling better?"

Noctis _does_ , stupid as it sounds. The dead are dead, and the world turns onwards, and all they can do is hope for moments of grace. Pancakes in the middle of the night.

Ignis's foot knocks into Noctis's, and he unthinkingly tangles their feet together.

What he has with Ignis is more grace. It feels unearned, this love Ignis has for him. And Ignis seems to expect so little back from Noctis. He leans across the small gap between them, and presses a kiss to Ignis's cheek.

"I take it that's a yes." But Ignis's ears are pinking, the way he does when he blushes.

Noctis stays leaning, their shoulders against each other, content, and takes another bite of the pancake. "You're the best."

Maybe tonight, Noctis will finally take the plunge, will be able to tell Ignis he loves him. He's never quite been able to say the words before. Ignis says it easily, as if it's that simple for him. He says it all the time. But Noctis has always struggled with words, with feelings. Ignis knows he's in Noctis's heart. He knows Noctis cares. But that's not enough, not really.

To hell with 'maybe later', Noctis thinks, and he sets down the fork.

"I love you," he says, softly.

Ignis's hand reaches for his, and Noctis takes it. It had been so easy, in the end. Just line the words up, and out they came.

"I do," he says, and he realises he's grinning. "And I'm not just saying it because of these pancakes."

Ignis smiles, and then his smile broadens, and then he's laughing, his hand squeezing Noctis's. "All the same, I'd better keep making them for you. Just in case."

It was a hard day. One of the hardest. But being here with Ignis, laughing in the warm kitchen, makes those hard days worth all of it.

They'll rebuild Insomnia. Noctis already brought back the dawn. With everyone else by his side -- with _Ignis_ by his side -- hard work doesn't seem like so much of a price to pay.

Onwards. To more moments of grace.


End file.
